


Words I Saved for You

by ninamonday



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Kissing, Non-Explicit Sex, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, mentions of covid travel restrictions, mild gender play, my love my friend my forever roommate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamonday/pseuds/ninamonday
Summary: Momo doesn't go home to her family for the holidays, so she and Jeongyeon spend the day together at their apartment, and learn something new.
Relationships: Hirai Momo/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 15
Kudos: 79





	Words I Saved for You

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** As mentioned in the tags, there are references to the covid pandemic in this fic -- quarantine/travel restrictions, not the virus. Feel free to leave a comment or get in touch on Twitter @ninamonday if you have any questions about warnings.
> 
> It's mostly just fluff, though. There was only one bed! (But not as an inconvenience, they just live like that.) Because, oh my god... they were ROOMMATES!
> 
> Title from Twice's "Best Thing I Ever Did"; admire my restraint in not titling it All I Want for Christmas Is You.
> 
> Merry Christmas and happy winter holidays, and thank you for reading!

No alarm, nowhere to be, Jeongyeon wakes up slowly in rich mid-morning light. The air she breathes in is cool, but the bed is toasty-warm, and warmer to Jeongyeon's right side, where Momo is still radiating heat in her sleep.

Jeongyeon turns on her side and, just for a second, she looks. Momo's face is as soft as it ever gets when she sleeps, and as much as Jeongyeon likes the strength in Momo's movement and the sharp lines of her makeup, this is the best because it's secret. Jeongyeon's own.

Momo's nose twitches and her lashes start to flutter, so Jeongyeon rolls away before she gets caught staring.

She takes a sweater from the floor to pull over her camisole and shuts the bedroom door quietly behind her before she goes to make tea.

This is a recent development, a bedroom door she can close so Momo has quiet while she decides whether to wake up. They moved into this apartment from the one-room they used to share only a few months ago. They have a separate bedroom now, with space to trade their shared bed for two smaller ones. They both keep telling friends they just need to save up after the move and get around to selling the old frame, but neither of them ever brings it up when they're alone. Jeongyeon isn't going to ask first.

After she sets the kettle on the burner and takes down a cup, Jeongyeon checks her phone. It looks like Nayeon and Jihyo had a competition to see who could send the first Merry Christmas text at midnight—Jihyo won—and there are already holiday posts from friends and celebrities dotting Jeongyeon's instagram feed.

There are two slices of Christmas cake in the fridge, too, left by Sana—she came over last night to watch a kids’ movie she and Momo remembered from childhood Christmases, and she declared she knew the bakery with the very best Christmas cake and no other would do.

The bedroom door opens—Momo goes into the bathroom, and Jeongyeon takes down a second cup.

But there is one thing here that doesn’t look like Christmas at all—Momo, asleep in bed instead of hurling clothes at a suitcase and squealing at Jeongyeon to help her pack.

She’s gone home to Kyoto for the new year as long as Jeongyeon has known her, and recently, she flies on Christmas since she gets the day off work, arriving in Japan just in time to have fried chicken with her family.

This year, Mina has been nervously monitoring each change to the international travel and quarantine rules; Sana, preparing to leave town at a moment’s notice if it happens to become convenient. But even the suggestion of extra logistics is overwhelming for Momo, and for her family. Early in the fall, they had exactly one conversation about the holidays.

“Ah, it’s not worth the trouble,” Momo said after she got off the phone with her mother. She batted her eyelashes at Jeongyeon. “You’ll celebrate with me, right?”

It was easy to say yes. Jeongyeon’s family hasn’t done anything special for Christmas since she was a kid. She might have visited her parents just because the holiday makes it a three-day weekend, or done something with Nayeon and Jihyo the way she has for the past few Christmases, but everyone understood immediately that Momo needed her more. She almost regrets that she doesn’t have anything important this week to give up for Momo.

Momo holds the bedroom door open for Jeongyeon and takes a cup of tea as she passes. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Jeongyeon gets back under the covers, propping her pillows up behind her. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go home.”

Momo shrugs before she climbs back into bed, too. “Let’s be sad about it for thirty seconds, and then stop.”

She sticks her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout and drops her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. They breathe together. Jeongyeon doesn’t count the seconds.

“See? It’s fine now,” Momo says briskly, lifting her head. “Don’t worry about me. Traveling is too stressful, even when it’s normal.” She savors a luxuriant sip of tea, a vision of peace and relaxation.

“It does require being on time for several things in a row.”

Momo shudders. “Horrible.” She makes smiling eye contact over her cup and devolves completely into aegyo. “My Jeongyeonie is worried? When she’s the only one I want to spend time with?”

Jeongyeon attempts a smile. “Well, if there’s anything else you want to do today…” She stops.

“Like what?” Momo wrinkles her nose. “I thought we were going to nap and eat fried chicken.”

“Sure, I don’t have plans,” Jeongyeon says. “But if you did. You know. No worries.”

Jeongyeon sounds like a malfunctioning robot, even to herself. Momo yawns noisily, throwing her elbow over her face. “What are you talking about? Make more sense, it’s too early.”

“I heard Sana, last night,” Jeongyeon says.

Momo looks unimpressed. “Everyone in the building heard Sana, I bet. She gets squeaky when she drinks.”

Jeongyeon’s pulse picks up, a little scared and maybe angry. She doesn’t understand why this was secret from her, why she had to overhear it in Sana’s joking voice. But, okay, if Momo insists: “About your boyfriend,” Jeongyeon says.

Jeongyeon didn’t recognize the movie they were watching and mostly left them alone—she only put  _ one _ rubber spider in the bag of stuff she got from the convenience store for them—but even from the bedroom, she heard Sana giggling a fake apology about stealing Momo from her boyfriend for the night, and Momo’s furious shushing.

Momo looks up. There’s something strange in her eyes—evaluating, or sort of calculating. That’s not like Momo at all. Why would she hide some guy from Jeongyeon? Is she afraid of what Jeongyeon will say? Where does she even get the  _ time?  _ She and Jeongyeon are always home together.

“She was talking about you,” Momo says.

“Oh,” Jeongyeon says before she understands. “What?”

“It was a joke.” Momo waves a hand. “Sana, you know.”

Yes, Jeongyeon knows Sana. And she does not know her to be cruel, definitely not about gender or sexuality or whatever the joke would be, there.

Jeongyeon knows Sana to say things that may or may not be jokes at all. People laugh, as if Sana’s words are funny, but usually she’s just saying or asking exactly what she means. It’s only strange because it’s rare for someone to be so literal and true.

“Right. Sana,” Jeongyeon says. Well—Jeongyeon also knows herself, and there’s no secret Sana’s thoughts will reveal that she isn’t already carrying.

Momo’s face is closed off, unreadable, which is first of all Jeongyeon’s move, Momo  _ stole  _ it, and second so unlike her that it is scarier than hurt or anger would be.

“Maybe we should sell this bed and finally get two smaller ones,” Jeongyeon says helplessly.

Momo wrinkles her nose. “We’re not going to be able to afford two mattresses as nice as this one.”

“I know.”

“Dancing is hard on your back!” Momo says. “I need my rest.”

“Working at a desk is hard on your back,” Jeongyeon replies, just as indignant. “You have no idea.”

“Well, why do you want to get rid of our nice mattress, then?” Momo says. She’s all puffed up, demanding.

Jeongyeon shrugs. “I was just offering.”

“You’re not even a good boyfriend.” Momo is pouting so much it blunts her words, sitting back against the pillows and looking up at Jeongyeon at an angle that makes her eyes huge. “Trying to get out of snuggling me.”

Jeongyeon doesn’t know what that is supposed to mean, exactly, or what Momo might be thinking or trying to say, but she does know she’s not going to lose. She narrows her eyes. “I am the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. None of those other clowns make you tea every morning.”

“I  _ knooow,”  _ Momo whines. “That’s why you can’t get another bed and abandon me.”

“Okay,” Jeongyeon says.

“O- _kay_ ,” Momo repeats, as if Jeongyeon has been wholly unreasonable. She sinks into Jeongyeon’s side, pulling the seam of Jeongyeon’s sweatshirt sleeve down to make herself a pillow on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t a good boyfriend. You’re the best.”

Jeongyeon twists her empty mug around her knee a few times before she puts it aside. “You and Sana  _ would _ think a boyfriend is just anybody who does stuff for you. That explains a lot.”

Momo lifts her head enough to catch Jeongyeon’s eye. “I know what a boyfriend is.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. Momo’s face is too close to look away from, and too intense to keep staring at.

“You’re so smart,” Momo says. “But you don’t  _ listen.” _

“What am I not listening to?”

Momo sighs. The scent of tea hangs in the air between them, one of the many rituals they share in this space of their own. In places all over the world, people are pausing, celebrating, putting up lights against the dark. Momo tilts her face to the side and presses her lips against Jeongyeon’s.

Jeongyeon has to relax, turn to meet it—Momo dips a little more to help—and they find one moment of perfect softness in the connection before Momo sits back, one eyebrow cocked in challenge.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Jeongyeon says tentatively, a challenge in return.

A truly dangerous smirk touches Momo’s lips as she puts her hand on Jeongyon’s shoulder and pushes her back against the headboard. She aims her next kiss truer, with a sweet, hot slip of tongue that moves against Jeongyeon’s with a click Jeongyeon can hear over her heartbeat pounding in her own ears.

Momo’s phone starts wailing. 

She makes a little  _ ssh _ noise under her breath as she reaches for it, but when she sees the name on the screen, she says only, “It’s my parents,” and swipes the video call open.

Jeongyeon slips out of bed. Shutting the door on Momo’s bright greeting over the phone, she returns to the kitchen and puts the kettle on again. Bread in the toaster, strawberry jam from the fridge. The cake Sana left in the fridge looks smug, somehow, two pieces in an accusatory couple.

That’s ridiculous, of course it is. Jeongyeon’s heart is still racing, a drumbeat thud like she’s running a sprint as she goes through the quiet motions of a simple breakfast.

“See?” Momo says as she comes out of the bedroom. “Making breakfast is girlfriend stuff but Jeongyeonie’s still the best at it.”

“Anybody can make breakfast,” Jeongyeon says, but Momo wraps her arms around Jeongyeon’s waist from behind, resting her chin on Jeongyeon’s shoulder, and Jeongyeon concedes before she knows what she’s conceding to. “If I’m the boyfriend and the girlfriend, what are you going to be?”

“I’m Momo,” Momo says, like  _ duh. _ But when Jeongyeon turns her head to look skeptical, she finds Momo entirely serious. She takes Jeongyeon’s chin in her hand and holds her face steady for another kiss, short and firm, a kiss like a punctuation mark. “RIght?”

“Okay,” Jeongyeon says. “I got it.”

Momo laughs, grabbing a slice of toast and jam from the counter, and takes a big bite  _ before _ she speaks. “I got it,” she says in a silly, gruff voice. “You’re so funny. Is there anything good on TV today?”

“I don’t know,” Jeongyeon says, trailing her to the sofa.

Jeongyeon flips through channels, looking for something festive or anything with music—Momo’s favorites—as Momo disappears into their room again. When she returns, licking a last drop of jam off her finger, she has a gift bag and an absolutely triumphant smile.

“What? Oh my god.” Jeongyeon sits up straighter. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“I know!” Momo crows, tossing the bag next to Jeongyeon. “But that’s for you.”

Jeongyeon pulls the paper aside and laughs before she can think to scowl—the red plaid pajamas in the bag match Momo’s precisely.

“We’re gonna be so cute,” Momo says. “Don’t make that tsundere face at me! I don’t believe you for a second.”

No, Momo isn’t fooled, and Jeongyeon makes only the cursory annoyed eye-rolls before she changes—moving into the bedroom to do it, even though she and Momo have changed together many times. The pajamas fit a little strangely—too wide and too short—and her body feels foreign inside them, awkward. 

But when she returns to the couch, she’s rewarded by getting pounced on, bundled into a corner of the sofa with Momo’s arms wrapped around her head. There’s nothing awkward about Momo’s body—even in stillness, the power in her limbs is tactile, as if a tiger has curled itself around Jeongyeon on the couch.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” Momo says.

Jeongyeon doesn’t ask what  _ like this _ means or whether Momo is joking. She simply says, “Okay.”

Maybe Jeongyeon’s whole life is turning upside down. She and Momo are roommates, they have all the same friends—maybe they are misunderstanding one another, no matter how Momo keeps confirming the fluttering thing in Jeongyeon’s chest.

But it’s not Jeongyeon’s way to make a situation more complicated than it has to be. It’s Christmas. Let it be a gift—let it be easy.

“Did you plan this?” Jeongyeon asks. “Christmas day, you’d make your move?”

_ “I  _ didn’t make any moves,” Momo says. “You started it.”

“I did not!” Jeongyeon has to go back over the morning. “I was just asking about what Sana said.”

Momo pauses, thinking, thinking—and then her face drops in horror. “Sana can  _ never know _ if we finally started because of her.”

_ Finally started, _ Jeongyeon thinks.  _ Finally. _

“Well, it wasn’t because of her.” Jeongyeon rallies her deepest, most powerful effort not to make a joke and says, “It’s because of you.”

Many people would laugh in Jeongyeon’s face at a show of attempted gallantry—she’d probably laugh at herself—but not Momo, who squeals and hides her face in Jeongyeon’s neck. While no one else is looking, Jeongyeon doesn’t laugh, either. Let it be a gift.

Jeongyeon and Momo have been living together, and sharing one bed, for years, and climbing in at night has never felt as strange as this. Jeongyeon changes out of the stiff new pajamas and into the soft-worn camisole and shorts she sleeps in, and the sheets are cold on her bare limbs.

They ate fried chicken and cake, watched a music show—video-called all their family and friends so Momo could show off the matched pajamas Jeongyeon only agreed to wear because they were in private. It was a great holiday. Every couple of hours, Momo kissed Jeongyeon like she needed to check Jeongyeon was still there.

She was, of course. She always is.

But now Momo is taking forever in the bathroom, and Jeongyeon ought to just go to sleep and save them both from a tense moment, but she can’t keep her eyes closed.

Momo floats in like she was gathering her resolve, too; she tosses herself into bed with so much enthusiasm she bounces. “I love our bed.”

“Me, too,” Jeongyeon says. It’s a great mattress—their friends used to fight over who would get to sit on it when they all came over to the old studio apartment.

“Let’s never get rid of it,” Momo says.

“Well, you have to replace mattresses every ten years or so,” Jeongyeon says, and Momo smiles so brightly Jeongyeon can see it in the dark.

“Okay. Once we’re in our thirties, we can upgrade.”

“Totally,” Jeongyeon says. “Maybe by then they’ll have zero-gravity sleep pods or something.”

“As long as I can share with Jeongyeonie,” Momo says in high, sweet aegyo. She takes a deep breath, and, in a single sudden whoosh, pulls the covers over both of their heads. In the deeper dark and the instant warmth of their bodies, she whispers, “You know how to do the next part, right?”

“What next part?” Jeongyeon whispers, her heart jumping into her throat. “We can do whatever. We can just go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Momo says, and shifts closer, one of her legs slipping between Jeongyeon’s. “Do you?”

Jeongyeon shakes her head, even though Momo probably can’t see her. “Is it too soon? We’ve only had today.”

“We’ve had years,” Momo replies, and she moves even closer and presses her lips against Jeongyeon’s.

This kiss is different—sharp with toothpaste but softer, no longer speaking or asking but simply present. The heat under the blanket is suffocating, and Jeongyeon whips the covers down and opens her mouth to take a breath of cool air and Momo’s sweet mouth.

Jeongyeon pushes gently and Momo rolls easily onto her back, all the power in those strong limbs just yielding as Jeongyeon moves over her. Carefully holding space, Jeongyeon hovers on her elbows, but Momo hooks her leg over Jeongyeon’s hip and drags down, and Jeongyeon lands tidily between Momo’s thighs. Momo grins into the kiss. Jeongyeon dips her head and bites Momo on the ear as something like punishment, but that only earns her a distracting gasp.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Jeongyeon asks. “Are you sure?”

Momo nods, a few quick jerks of her chin and then slower, more sure. Jeongyeon shifts her weight to one side and cups her hand around the curve of Momo’s waist, slowly tracing up her side over the fine barrier of her tank top and then rubbing her thumb gently back and forth under Momo’s breast.

Momo grabs Jeongyeon’s hand with her own and pushes it up herself, both bold and squirming. Her nipple is hard against Jeongyeon’s palm, and hot, even through her shirt. Jeongyeon laughs a little, flustered and confident, all contradiction now that she has a contradiction like Momo in her hands.

“Okay, have some patience.” Jeongyeon slips her hand under the hem of Momo’s tank top and traces the same path, skin on skin.

“You be patient,” Momo mutters, shimmying out of her pajama pants as Jeongyeon pulls her shirt up.

If Momo in frumpy pajamas inspired Jeongyeon to wild metaphors, her naked body robs Jeongyeon of any words at all. No one has ever been so beautiful. She could be anywhere, with anyone; she could do anything she wanted. And she’s here, gone pliant and making sweet, small sounds as Jeongyeon kisses inside her knee and runs a hand up her thigh.

It’s like a dream, except Jeongyeon has never even dreamed something that feels like Momo slick-wet for her.

They stay up too late, learning one another in this new way and then just lying together, whispering and laughing. Jeongyeon can’t resist grabbing Momo’s side to startle her into yelping, even though she knows Momo is stronger and she’lll inevitably end up pinned to the mattress, tickled until she begs for mercy.

It feels good, though she won’t admit it. All that laughter.

When, finally, Jeongyeon’s eyelids are too heavy to stay open and even the noodle house across the street has turned out its neon sign, drawing the dark a shade deeper, she says, “I hope you had a good Christmas, even if you couldn’t go home.”

Momo is quiet long enough that Jeongyeon thinks if she’s fallen asleep. But eventually, she says, “I’m sad I can’t see my family. I want to, as soon as it’s safe. But I’m pretty lucky, because I’m already home.”

Jeongyeon doesn’t even call her cheesy, or have to weigh another response. Here, in their bed, where every word can stay as secret as they want, she doesn’t have to say anything more.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/ninamonday) | <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Words I Saved for You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409046) by [knight_tracer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_tracer/pseuds/knight_tracer)




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